


Flammable

by Aurora_Damigny



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brienne is the Best, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Protective Jaime Lannister, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 09:25:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18601687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_Damigny/pseuds/Aurora_Damigny
Summary: ''Brienne doesn’t love herself much. She likes being strong and she has the mind for it, so it’s useless to go against it. But if she could change both body and mind to bloom into a beautiful flower, like her dad used to call her, she would. She’s all edges and rough and hard, you could cut yourself on the bones of her face and there is no shape softening her body. She likes being a sword, but it’s not easy to look like one.Once she said that to lady Stark and the woman answered with her very noble tone ‘’Flowers get burnt by the fire of men, there needs to be some women that are not affected by it.’’Lady Stark looked tired and wary as she said it and, selfishly, it made Brienne feel relieved. At least one pain the world will spare her.And then she meets Jaime.''





	Flammable

Brienne doesn’t love herself much. She likes being strong and she has the body for it, so it’s useless to go against it. But if she could change both body and mind to bloom into a beautiful flower, like her dad used to call her, she would. She’s all edges and rough and hard, you could cut yourself on the bones of her face and there is no shape softening her body. She likes being a sword, but it’s not easy to look like one. 

Once she said that to lady Stark and the woman answered with her very noble tone ‘’Flowers get burnt by the fire of men, there needs to be some women that are not affected by it.’’

Lady Stark looked tired and wary as she said it and, selfishly, it made Brienne feel relieved. At least one pain the world will spare her.

And then she meets Jaime. 

 

"You’re much uglier in daylight" is the first thing he ever told her. And a few minutes later "You’re as boring as you’re ugly." It’s words she has heard a thousand time. But the thing is, generally when boys and men have told her how much disgust and hatred they have for her, how much they resent her for even existing before their eyes, and that they wish she didn’t, eventually they got bored. Brienne is especially ugly, but it doesn’t take a lot to be the target of the spite of men, any women who doesn’t play the game of femininity will do, really. So after a while they either ignore her, act like she’s not even there, or find more discreet, "funny" ways to make fun of her. And it becomes easier to pretend that she’s not hurt.

But Jaime never stops. He comments on her body, her lack of sexuality, her face. He looks a lot, doesn’t avert his eyes like people generally do because they can’t stand her appearance. And he’s smart, smart enough that his insults and guesses always pierce right through. 

He jokes that he would fuck her. "I’m strong enough"

"Not interested"She answers.

"Of course you are. You’d love to know what it feels like to be a woman."

She would. Beautiful persons tend to assume that the ugly ones, at some point, realize they’re never going to be loved and desired and just move on to something else. But it never happens. It’s not that she has hopes, but she does have fantaisies, and it’s easier to let them exist that to constantly remind herself that they’re never going to happen. She’s a fighter, she prefers a good beating once in a while to abusing her body with work every day.

He finds out about her crush on Renly. She’s never told anyone. It feels so raw and personal. She’s somewhat scared Renly is going to rise from the dead just to laugh at her. Jaime tells her she’s too masculine for her dead king, and it stings, because she did told that to herself before. The Lannister confirms it, though, and it’s different when it’s said out loud. She feels like stumbling, falling, crying with her head between her knees like she used to do when she was a little girl, when boys pulled out her hair because they thought it looked like straw. But she does none of this, because if Jaime thinks she’s the manliest man, she’s going to prove him right. 

When they fight she can sense that she gained some kind of respect, as an opponent, in his eyes. It gives her strength to snap back at him. That’s how lady Stark said, a sword that remains unburned, so the fire has to give up at some point. Right ?

They get captured and they talk casually about how she’s about to be raped. He tells her not to resist, but she will, because she’s strong. It’s easy for a girl to become strong when she knows no man is ever going to save her. It’s called survival instinct.

 

And then he saves her, and he looses a hand. 

It’s hard not to be thankful, not to have pity. She thought she had the moral superiority at least, but now the lines are blurred. He’s so sad, so sad. She just has to do what she can to help. Nothing is more distressful to watch that a fire that dies, and she’s scared of the dark anyway. Having to convince him to eat was the most stressful thing she ever did.

That is, until they bathe together. He tells her to pull him out of the tub if he passes out, but considering her own heartbeat, they might as well both drown. All of it comes out as anger, and he apologizes. Says he trusts her. Tells him his story. He wants to bring her with him. 

If you put a sword in a furnace long enough, it melts. Jaime is sort of familiar, and safe. He can use his words in the worst ways and in the best, and act like the worst jerk and the best knight. She’s curious to discover what he will choose, as she reminds him of his promise to lady Stark. She’s curious, but in her heart, she believes he will do the right thing. 

  
She didn’t expect the right thing to be saving her a second time. It’s really bad, it feels so good to be saved, to matter. He risked his life for hers, and it’s so strange, so unexpected, she doesn’t quite know what to do with it. 

She meets Cersei, and the woman is so, so gorgeous. Her hair looks like a crown and a lion’s mane and a golden river all at once. Her smile is dazzling, her eyes like the sapphires there never was on Tarth Island, and her body like they describe the imagined maidens in the old songs.

"You love him" She asserts. And Brienne can’t deny anything because, well, that’s true. She dislikes that woman not because of jealousy, but because it’s really cruel to voice it. She can see how she is similar to Jaime in that sense, using truth as their best weapons. They don’t stab, but they twist the knife inside the wound until it festers and kills. And she feels like a rotten fruit, standing in front of that woman. 

* * *

She’s not a flower. He gives her a sword, an armor, and a mission. She’s not a flower. But he smells good, and he respects her, and he’s kind and honorable. She’s not a flower. And it doesn’t matter. They don’t fight anymore. Fire cannot burn the sword, and sword cannot cut trough the fire. No one wins. "I’ll find her. For lady Cathleen. And for you." It’s difficult to breath after this. But he just nods. Like it’s not completely crazy and out of place. Like there is a thing between them, whatever it is.

When they see each other again, he says "I’m proud of you." And there is warmth in her belly. When he lets her keep the sword, the warmth becomes too hot to handle.

She’s burning from within. 

He’s even more out of her reach than Renly. She can’t even become his knight, to protect him. The time they spend together make her tense up, she has cramps for days after their meeting. Unlike Renly, she doesn’t look from far away. She’s up close, staring right in his eyes. And he stares back.  
It’s always unexpected, unbelievable, almost dream-like. The way he looks at her, with a sort of softness, a delicate, compassionate recognition. It makes her knees feel weak.

She has to leave again. 

She doesn’t expect to ever see him again, but he leaves Cersei, and shows up at Winterfell. And in the middle of winter the flower blooms. He’s very respectful and cordial, but now he’s so close too. Walking next to her. When they discuss, sometimes his hand brushes against hers by accident. She feels like an insect near a candle. She becomes cold, distance herself. She doesn’t want to love him even more, her heart might explode, and she could accidentally tell him. Or he could guess. He’s smart. Not as smart as Tyrion, who gives her a knowing, amused look the first time he sees them together. But smart nonetheless, and he guessed her feelings many times before.

She avoids him. 

She regrets it when Winter is at their door. She wants to spend her final hours with him, she needs his warmth more than ever. 

He knights her, like a second-thought, like it’s easy, like he would give her anything she wanted if anyone just brought it up. Sometimes, it feels like he would. 

She gets hurt at the battle, hit in the back by a wight, and other soldiers walk all over her. She can’t stand up, she’s gonna die. She wants Jaime to know she loves him. Maybe he wouldn’t laugh, maybe he would see her as a woman at least. 

Between her half-closed eyelids, she sees a man wielding a sword on fire. He cuts through his enemies, bringing light closer to her. She passes out.

* * *

She wakes up in a bed, in one of the Stark’s room. Sansa is there, and she brushes her hair like a mother, telling her with her soft voice "Everything is fine now. You just rest." She asks where is Jaime and her lady smiles kindly. "He’s alive. He’s helping them prepare the war against Cersei. I’ll go get him for you." It makes no sense, but at least he’s not dead. She falls asleep immediately.

"It’s not very nice, not to wait for me." She hears when she becomes conscious again. Jaime is sitting on the edge of her bed. He’s dressed in his knight outfit, but has no armor on. She doesn’t understand what he said, but he does look distressed "I’m sorry." she tells him, her voice sounds like a dying horse. He still looks upset. He takes a glass of water on the night-stand and lifts her shoulders easily to sit her up. She blushes, not that it must be visible with how bruised her face must be. He helps her drink. "Podrick ?" She asks when he sits back on the bed. He’s so close. 

"He’s fine, training the others. He came by to see you a few times, but you were sleeping."

Does that mean Jaime was here the whole time ? The Lannister does look tired. 

"How is your back ?" He puts his hand close to her side like maybe he wants to check himself. "Are you hungry ?" He says, but his voice sounds like he’s on the other side of the castle. "I’m tired." She answers. His face becomes blurry and she closes her eyes. She feels him cover her with the blanket, his flesh fingers resting on her neck. "Sleep, then, I’ll guard your bed." She would laugh if she was conscious enough. 

  
Its the middle of the night when she wakes up. Someone still brings her food. Her bandages are changed, she is washed and dressed in a clean nightdress. The Starks really do care about hospitality. She’s well enough to sit by herself now. A guard knocks on the door, why is there a guard at her door ? He asks "Ser Brienne, Lord Tyrion is here to see you, may he enter ?" She’s happy to hear the title, she agrees. 

The man sits on the chair next to her bed. For someone about to be possibly murdered by his older sister, he’s very cheerful. "Are you healing well, ser Brienne ?"

She realizes how lucky she is to have found those people, willing to call her that and to ask those questions with sincerity. "I am, thank you."

He nods and smiles amiably. "Have you ever met my sibling ?" He asks. 

She frowns. "He was there earlier, he looked tired, is he okay ?"

He shakes his head, still smiling. "I’m sure he did, but I meant my other sibling."

"Your sister, Cersei ?"

"I don’t call her that, but yes."

"I did." She wonders why he would ask, she’s pretty sure he has seen them both at Joffrey’s wedding. 

He takes a sip of wine from the glass he brought with him. Good thing the long night ended up being shorter than planned, because Tyrion would have gone madder than the mad king without it. "Is it impolite to ask what you thought of her ?"

She makes a face, but tries to sound detached when she answers "She’s very pretty."

Tyrion laughs without humor. "That she is. It was always her best quality."

Tyrion Lannister is a quite intimidating man, she realizes. He always stares from the corner of his eyes, like he’s looking at everything at the same time. His voice is deeper than Jaime’s, if he was screaming, she would be worried. But that’s not why he’s here, it seems. "I was expecting you to be manipulative, or at the very least malicious, but you lie very badly, and it seems you can’t hide your emotions." He says.

She frowns "What do you.."

"And what do you think about my brother, then ?" He interrupts. 

She flushes, and reflexively brings her hand to her face as if she could feel it reddening. 

He leans forward, and she looks away. There is a moment were neither of them say anything.  
"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you." He stands up and walks to the door. ‘’But please don’t be, my brother would hate to see you upset. Especially for no good reason.’’

He leaves, and she’s left wondering what that was about.

* * *

Jaime joins her everyday for breakfast and dinner, and she feels terrible wasting his time like this. He’s right, she’s ugly and boring. They only talk about war strategies, and politics, and her. And in the moment she sort of wants to narrate her life to the Lannister, he has lovely eyes when he listens, and she wants him to know her. But when he leaves, she always wishes she had told him more interesting things.

He doesn’t have a lot of time as one of Jon Snow’s knight (the gods know how that happened), but Podrick, Arya, and Tyrion also come often, to chat, play chess and cards. Sansa is there almost every day. She puts cream on her face, brushes her hair and scrubs her skin with sand and oils. Brienne tells her that it’s quite useless to try and make her pretty, but Sansa shakes her head. "Don’t be silly, that’s not what this is about. You’re pretty regardless, but you have to do it to show that you’re doing it." Brienne frowns, and Sansa cups her face between her small, soft hands (still, even after everything that happened to her) "To send a message." she smirks. 

One day Jaime holds her hand. She’s telling him about how they had to quickly make her a room with no window when she was 12, because otherwise the boys of the whole domain would try to peek in. They dared each others to try and get a look at the wench’s body. She say it to make him laugh, people tend to find this story hilarious. But Jaime just takes her hand and squeezes it, just a little. His is warm, the grip is gentle. She’s so nervous she reflexively pulls away. He apologizes, and leaves not too long after. 

He only comes back a few days later, and this time he sits on the chair. She hates that he might think she doesn’t want to be his friend, when that’s absolutely not the reason for this distance. The truth is she wants him so bad that if she could carve a woman’s body in her own, like the rock statues in the tombs, she would. And she knows Jaime is sensitive too. He gives too much and expect nothing in return, until it makes him bitter and hateful. She remembers her last thought before she almost died was how much she wants to tell him. "love you." And then she just does. He stops mid-sentence of whatever he was saying about this morning’s reunion.

The silence is so long. She clutches the blanket on her knees, which are not making up for the loss of warmth in her heart. She wants to add that he doesn’t have to answer anything, but she realizes that he does. She wants him to. She wishes he would tell her what part of her exactly make her unlovable, at least she would know precisely what to hate.

 

She’s looking outside trough the window. The snow has melted and the sunshine makes everything less dramatic. She feels the mattress dip when he sits next to her. "Why aren’t you looking at me ?" He asks. She’s holding back tears, but one slips away. He wipes it with his flesh hand, and lets it rest on her cheek. He turns her face towards him. 

And then he’s kissing her.  
It’s very chaste, almost a feather against her lips. The way you would kiss a virgin, and he knows she is. "Did you ever have someone loving you back ?" He asks. "I didn’t. It feels good. I’m so happy. Can I hold you ?" He hugs her carefully, like she’s fragile, despite the fact that his head barely reaches her shoulder. She cries a lot.

* * *

When a few weeks later, he takes his clothes off, sitting on her bed because it’s difficult enough with one hand, she can’t shake the idea that this is all a joke. Boys have betted they could fuck her, that they would break her from the inside like that. It’s dark in the room even with the candles, and that gives her confort. They’ve seen each other naked before, but she still trembles when he pulls up her dress, his metal hand brushing her tight and waist. He takes his time, stretching her open with his finger, whispering gentle words in her ear as he does. She hopes she is not clutching too hard on his shoulder, but it might bruise.

When he is inside of her, she feels soothed. She had feared being raped and abused so many times, had feared a man would rip her open and take her like a bitch. Jaime is so slow, looking down at her for a sign of discomfort. He is holding himself up above her which can’t be confortable with his handicap, and he lets her dig her nails into his skin to relieve her stress. He looks overjoyed when he makes her come, when she muffles her moan against his neck. That makes her happy.

It’s not perfect. Jaime still gives too much, and Brienne still refuses to take enough. They don’t fit perfectly, its awkward and difficult. But they do make each other better. When Jaime offers her flowers and Brienne gets upset because it’s all Cersei he tells her "Cersei hated flowers, she thought they wither too quick. But I thought you might like them." She realizes that she does.

 


End file.
